Minerva's Musings
by Apolla2
Summary: Minerva thinks about a weddng invatation and the night it happened, because she was there, she knows. H/Hr Slight Mierva/Albus


"Finally." Was all I could think as I turned the wedding invitation over in my slightly scarred hands. I, and the rest of the Hogwarts staff, have been waiting for the wedding of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter for far too long in my opinion. It seems odd that this small, frail, white card would symbolize a love so complex and strong. This is not just the wedding of two people who love each other; this is the wedding of two students, two friends, and two heroes. That is the worst of all curses.  
  
It is easy to be two students in love, hard to be two friends in love, but it is something entirely different to be two heroes in love. I have always said the love of a hero is no love at all. This is because no hero can love you with every fiber of his body; it is always employed elsewhere. To love a hero is to love nothing. I always thought Hermione was the only woman who would stand for such a life, who could stand such a life. She knew when he needed her protection and when protecting him wouldn't help. She understood when love would blind her and when it was her sense talking. But what would happen when she became a hero as well? When she needed protection too?  
  
Their love had always been a 'Hogwarts' sure thing', a running bet in the Gryffindor common room and in the staff lounge. "Any day now." And "They are so thick!" Were often heard concerning Harry and Hermione. You could feel a love like theirs written in the wind around them and etched in their subconscious glances at each other. They were both stubborn, both intelligent, both oblivious to their affections for the other. They, of course, being as obstinate as they are, said it was just friendly feelings. Yet friendly feelings don't make everyone around you want to be in love.  
  
I suppose they didn't want to notice, avoiding the jarring confrontation that would follow such an event. Doing something undeniably romantic for the other then not being able to make eye contact for the next week was common enough. It soon became routine to see them both turn down other students advances though still not say a word to each other on the subject. It was this way for years, even after graduation they were close, but their love choked them. I know how they felt.  
  
When the war officially began and Harry and Hermione were put in commanding roles. With death lurking around every corner for them both they needed each other more than ever. They smothered their feelings to avoid dealing with it. Intelligent on their part, but love has this horrible tendency to ignore what is intelligent, what is prudent. The night before the final battle, things came to ahead. I was there, I know.  
"Tomorrow's the day." I heard Ron say gravely.  
  
"It will finally be over." Sirius said, though he looked so lost in thought you wondered if he had said anything at all.  
  
Everyone who had gathered had that sort of look on his or her face, all meditating, thinking of those they loved. For some this would reflect their actions for the next day, to play it safe or seek revenge. Many there were the sole survivors of their families, further evidence this war had been going on too long. Similar thoughts were going through Harry's mind. His eyes were closed as if he were asleep, though the aura around him vibrated with energy. You could feel him debating in his mind and prepping himself for his battle. For though everyone had fought, died, and defeated together they all knew the last battle would be Harry and Voldemort's. No one else would kill him, no one else would try. They had seen the Raven bearing the symbol that this would be the last battle.  
  
It seemed as though Harry's debate had been won. His eyes snapped opened and he called quietly for Hermione.  
  
Hermione had been across the large room, checking wands and speaking wise words, yet she still heard his soft call and came. She stood behind his seat on the couch, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Yes Harry?" Her voice and her look were laced with love and pity. She too knew that this battle would be his, though she long ago resolved to stand beside him in everything, she knew she would be left at the gates.  
  
"Gather everyone, we should go over our posts." At hearing this Dumbledore and I came nearer, wondering if he had made changes.  
  
"Don't bother, everyone knows their posts; now they should rest," She soothed, rubbing his shoulder. "As should you."  
  
"There have been some changes." He sounded distant and uncomfortable as he put his callused hand over hers.  
  
She looked down at his head, staring straight forward. She knew what he would try to do, but didn't want to believe it. "What sort of changes?"  
  
He looked down at the soft, slightly scarred hand he now held and his other grabbed her wand from her robe pocket, years with her had taught him that much. "You will be staying here with Merrill and Susan, going over strategies." He refused to meet her eyes. He was afraid of both anger and sadness that may well in them.  
  
At first there was nothing but disappointment shown in the cinnamon pools. Then anger, sadness, and fear accompanied it. Anger at his actions, sadness at the prospect of not being near him, and fear that she wouldn't be there to protect him. She was speechless for a moment. She had opened her mouth twice to say something, but twice she shut it. Then a look of angered determination crossed her face and opened her mouth once again.  
  
"Harry, I refuse." She said simply.  
  
Harry played with the ring he had given her and never looked up. With the same distant voice he said: "Hermione, it wasn't a request it was an order." He was pulling rank after all.  
  
She pulled her hand out of his grasp. "With all due respect, commander, I refuse. There are too many good reasons for me to be on the battlefield." Her voice was cold, colder than it had ever been concerning Harry.  
  
Harry stood to face her. "I can't think of any reason you would be better in the field then here." Even he knew that was a lie. Anyone could see the pain in his eyes, he knew we needed Hermione. He also knew he needed her too.  
  
Hermione's cold reserve snapped at that moment. "Harry I'm the best witch you have! I have gone to most of the training you have," She began ticking things off her fingers. " All that training has been for battle, I have written all our strategies in the first place, and-"She let her hands drop and her voice became more determined. "-And I need to protect you." From anyone else that would have sounded wrong. The-boy-who-lived needed protection. Yet everyone knew Hermione did something for Harry, weather mentally or physically we never knew, to protect him.  
  
Harry looked into her eyes. "Don't protect me, I don't need it. Protect yourself."  
  
She took a step closer to him. "Harry, from the beginning, when this war started, I vowed you wouldn't have to do anything alone. I promised myself I would stand by your side and I have. I'm not going to stop now." She stood up to face him.  
  
"Hermione, from the moment this war started I have been grateful for you by my side. You've become my second shadow and I don't want to loose you. If you were on the field I would worry about you, you'd distract me."  
  
"Forget I'm there, just like you said I'll be your shadow until the final moments. I'm a fine witch Harry, I can take care of myself, and I'll take care of you too."  
  
Harry cradled both her hands in his. "Hermione, too many of my loved ones have died at his hands, I won't let you too."  
  
"I won't Harry. I'm strong and I'll be fine."  
  
"Yes, you'll be fine here with Merrill and Susan, I have no doubts about that."  
  
"Harry! I will not stay here while my friends are out there dieing! I will fight beside them."  
  
"I will not stand aside and let my friends die while I can do something about it."  
  
"Harry, I'm your friend, just as Ron is and I don't see you changing his posts!" She tore her hands from his and turned from him.  
  
Harry grabbed her shoulder before she could take a step and spun her around, gently. "Well maybe I don't love Ron the same way I love you!"  
  
Everyone had been watching. Dumbledore and I had been especially close and felt a bit awkward, in the middle of this private moment. We all just stood there, silently, knowing what should come next; wondering of it was for the best. Would this result in a more distracted Harry, or less. Which would be better for the war? We all sat in an uncomfortable silence, waiting for the next scene. It really wasn't silent in the huge room, filled with people, but all those who were close didn't want to break the moment.  
  
Harry and Hermione stood staring at each other. They both looked as if they had just realized how deeply they were in love. Like tripping and not knowing you did until you hit the ground.  
  
Hermione finally broke the silence. She took a step closer to him and peered into his eyes. "Harry, I love you," Her voice wavered slightly, as if she were on the verge of tears. If she was her face didn't show it. "And I will follow you to the depths of hell if the moment calls for it. It wasn't my choice to fall in love with a hero, but it's my choice to fight beside him and you won't stop me."  
  
Another uncomfortable silence settled like a thick dust over the group. Ron, I'm sure wanted to say something in true Weasely style, but was too spellbound to make a moment breaking comment. Harry himself looked thunderstruck. I never thought it would I would call the boy stupid, but if he didn't grab Hermione before she ran away, I swore I would take Gryffindor points away the moment I got back, just to spite him. A hurt look crossed her face and she began to turn away.  
  
My opinion of him was saved. "Hermione, wait." He took a step toward her. "I hoped and dreamed that this moment wouldn't happen, defiantly not tonight. I tried to make myself believe I didn't love you and if I ignored it would go away. But I couldn't ignore it, I couldn't ignore how brave you are, I couldn't ignore how you never gave up on me, and I couldn't ignore how beautiful you are." He dropped his eyes. "Hermione, if we just ignore this you won't be hurt if I die tomorrow. Even if I don't you deserve someone better."  
  
Hermione closed the gap between them wrapped her arms around his neck. They melted into each other; it was like a perfect balance. Nothing I have ever seen was so beautiful, and I am by no means a sentimental woman.  
  
They pulled back, still ignoring the still speechless group around them. Even Mr. Weasley seemed to still lack smart remarks. "Harry, you are a complete idiot." Harry was again, thunderstruck. His expression made him look like a direct descendant of Mr. Longbottom an Exam day. "If I hadn't said this tonight and you had died-" She swallowed, and Harry took this moment to hug her.  
  
His embrace lasted minutes, only stopping to kiss her forehead. "Don't think about it. Don't think about tomorrow, or last year, or anything. Just don't think." He kissed her again.  
That's the last thing I remember about that night. The next day was just a blur. Through that blur shined three heroes, just guess who. It was those newly christened: Merlin's Man, The Dragon Tamer, and The-Man-Who- Conquered. Ronald Weasley commanded a rouge group who used a clever mix of Weasley Wizard Wheezes and actual hexes to capture a thousand Death Eaters. "The Dragon Tamer" or Hermione Granger, kept forty death eaters at bay by herself while Harry fought, and captured forty five while she was at it, never killing one. I won't bother explaining what Harry did, you must know if you've ever set foot in the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Many compare Harry to Albus and Hermione to myself, those who are old enough to recall our parts in the Grindewald war. Both blush madly at being compared to their professors, saying that they could never live up to us, but I know better. Hermione has much more than I ever did. She is smarter, with books to nurture her and courage to hold her place. She can accept her feelings and fight with them, something I never mastered. But most of all, she has the love of a hero. Something more than I ever thought it was.  
  
"Minerva, are you coming to the Potter wedding?" Albus calls from the doorway, he knows quite well I wouldn't miss it. "Of course, aren't you?"  
  
"Why yes, Miss Granger has requested I dance with her for the father daughter dance, seeing as her father cannot be there." Hermione's father had died a few years before. "After that it seems my dance card is desolate."  
  
"I'd love to, Albus." I'd love to dance with a hero. 


End file.
